Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
by notenoughpotter
Summary: TWO-shot - For the TVDMixingAuthor2Author exchange - aquakitty1864 : Since Elena has been a vampire she hasn't had much enjoyment and doesn't really feel like celebrating Christmas. I want to see him pull out all the shots. Baking cookies. Christmas Tree Picking. Snowball fights. Christmas tree decorating. Maybe even a custom christmas ornament or something romantic.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Surprise! Looks like I had another one-shot in me after all – well, a two-shot, if there is such a thing (and yes, there's still one more non-Christmas one-shot still to come…I'm having some trouble with that one).

For the TVDMixingAuthor2Author exchange - aquakitty1864 : Since Elena has been a vampire she hasn't had much enjoyment and doesn't really feel like celebrating Christmas. I want to see him pull out all the shots. Baking cookies. Christmas Tree Picking. Snowball fights. Christmas tree decorating. Maybe even a custom christmas ornament or something romantic. (think of the perfect christmas) Then ending up in front of the fire for a smutty ending You don't have to do all of it, just some general ideas.

Warnings: Mature – adult content, angst, not canon-compliant (no DEx to this point, no sire bond)

* * *

Damon slowed his car to a crawl as he passed by the Gilbert house. Even though interacting directly with Jeremy was asking for a ticket to end his undead life, he'd kept the promise he made to Ric – even if his friend didn't actually say the words. Judging by the overwhelming number of candles flickering in each of the all too familiar windows, Jeremy was doing just fine…and Bonnie was keeping him company. If Damon wasn't imagining it, he could even hear faint strains of Christmas carols mixed with laughter coming from the house. The footprints in the ankle-deep snow that had fallen so far on Christmas Eve signaled that there might even be a party going on at the Gilbert house. Jeremy had better clean up the mess his friends caused. Of course, Bonnie probably knew some kind of cleaning spell. Jeremy was going to make in through the Christmas season without too much trouble.

If only Damon could say the same about the other Gilbert in his life.

Well, she wasn't exactly in his life. Not really.

After Stefan's attempt to find the cure had gone badly wrong, leaving Jeremy with one fixed goal – killing Elena – they hadn't really had much of a choice other than to let her move into the boardinghouse. After all, her name was still on the deed. The house actually belonged to her. They couldn't really leave her homeless.

But ever since she'd become a vampire, things had become more and more strained between Stefan and Elena until they finally realized she wasn't the same person she'd been when he arrived in Mystic Falls. Becoming a vampire brought back the old Elena. The one who Caroline had described as _much more fun. _The one who Damon met on that darkened road ages ago. The same Elena he'd always known existed.

The one he never allowed himself to think might someday be his.

He and Stefan had been down this road before. Katherine's attempt to play the brothers against each other had almost destroyed them. Now, as Elena dealt with the overwhelming losses of her friends, her family, and herself – Damon wouldn't allow her to become even more conflicted, even if that mean he had to walk away.

So when she arrived with her bags, he'd packed his own. Alaric's loft was comfortable, unoccupied, and convenient to the Mystic Grill. And that was good, since the new bartender had been able to afford a brand new convertible just from Damon's tips.

Stefan's new address was a little more unexpected. After Caroline had been unable to convince Elena that Stefan was the Salvatore brother she should choose, Caroline furrowed her brow, dug in her heels, and invited Stefan to move into the spare bedroom once occupied by Tyler when he was attempting to hide from Klaus.

The new housing arrangements were a little complicated, but they were working out…or at least Damon thought they were. His car wound its way through the festive decorations that made the historic section of Mystic Falls legendary in the state. He quickly found his car sandwiched between an SUV traveling at a crawl and a church van filled with senior citizens out to enjoy the brightly lit streets. Everywhere he looked, colorful lights danced, animated Santa Clauses waved, and windows were filled with the warm golden glow that signaled the upcoming holiday.

Until he turned onto his own street.

It was worse than he'd thought.

He'd deliberately avoided coming here. She was Stefan's by her own choice. She would always be Stefan's. That's just the way his life worked. They'd fight. Elena would be stubborn like always. Then she'd make up with his brother, just like clockwork.

But they hadn't made up. And, judging by the darkened windows, no one had come to help her during these days. He remembered those days well…the ones right after he'd transitioned. Even after 10 years, the loss of his mother still burned bright in his chest, amplified by his heightened vampire emotions. His father was dead. His friends were gone. His brother wanted to kill him.

That all sounded very familiar.

_Damn it._

Her car was in the driveway. Despite the darkness, he knew she was home. He pulled his car in the winding drive behind hers. Damon stepped out from behind the wheel and took a step toward the cobblestone sidewalk but stopped when something red caught his eye. Bending down, he pulled a soggy red envelope out of the snow. Had Elena dropped it?

But vampires didn't just drop their mail without realizing it. He took a closer look at the envelope. It was addressed to Jeremy, and _return to sender _was scrawled across the front in bold, block letters. Obviously the hunter version of Elena's little brother had been in charge of collecting Jeremy's mail.

The card hadn't been too deeply buried. She'd gotten this letter tonight. On Christmas Eve.

Screw _Stefan's girl. _He chuckled to himself at his unintended double entendre. He wasn't here for _that. _But he wasn't going to leave her here on her own. And he knew she was at the boardinghouse.

* * *

He closed the heavy front door behind himself with a click. He wanted to warn her that he was here. She probably heard his car pulling into the drive, but he couldn't hear her now. That was one of the annoying side effects of her transition to a vampire. She didn't have to allow herself to be heard if she didn't want to be. He walked through the foyer and into the living room, turning on the lights as he went. "Elena. You're a vampire – not a ghost."

He waited.

And waited.

Her school books were placed haphazardly on the side table next to the couch. The hearth was cold and dark. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen it without a blazing fire.

He could fix that.

Just as he piled the last log on the fire and tossed a match in to light a virtual inferno, he heard it. A sniffle. Faint and far away, his suspicions were right. She was here…and she was crying on Christmas Eve.

Damon thought back to the warmth and happiness he'd sensed on his drive through town. She deserved that. He climbed the stairs and turned in the direction of Stefan's room. Of course she'd be there. But she wasn't.

He paused on the landing and listened.

A sniffle followed by the sound of a tissue being pulled from a box. She wasn't in Stefan's room, but she was in the room at the end of the hall – the one she'd used ages ago when they were trying to break the vicious cycle of Stefan's bloodlust.

Damon stepped into the bedroom and paused. All the fire he saw when she'd first turned into a vampire was gone. The dark side of the amplified vampire emotions was obviously in effect tonight. Elena leaned against the headboard with her knees practically crushed against her chest. She didn't even move when he stepped closer to the bed.

"What are you doing here?" She might not have looked up, but she wasn't ignoring him.

He made up his mind. "I came to pick you up." He extended his hand to her and smiled.

"For what?" Her words held the muffled quality of someone who'd been crying for an extended period of time.

He arched an eyebrow and smirked. "It's a surprise."

* * *

Author's note. I know these are supposed to be one-shots, but this break NEEDED to happen. The remainder of the story will be posted tomorrow. Hope you've enjoyed it so far!


	2. Chapter 2

Elena cocked her head to the side and a wary look came over her face. "What kind of surprise?"

Damon sighed. Of course she'd decide to be stubborn tonight. "A Christmas one. You'll like it." He extended his hand again and tapped his foot against the hardwood floor. He'd never liked this room – not since he found Aunt Laverne here…or at least part of her was here. Part of her was strewn down the hall and the rest of her was in the master bedroom. Uncle Benedict had interrupted Stefan before he could finish his tidying up. His little brother was lucky he'd been around to set a convenient house fire. He glanced up at the ceiling. The repairs never quite matched the rest of the house. "Come on. Let's go."

Elena sat up slightly and placed her hand in his. "Where are we going?"

"Shopping." Damon said simply as he reached for her coat that had been draped over the hope chest at the end of the bed. Judging from the clothes strewn around the room, she'd chosen the gloomiest room in the house for her own. Typical.

Elena shook her head. "I don't have anyone to shop for this year."

Damon felt his eyebrows knit together. "That's debatable. But, before we even think about presents, we have to pick up something else first." Elena's look of confusion showed that she wasn't following his train of thought. He waited as she put on her coat and pulled her gloves from her pockets. "This house is sorely in need of a tree. It's Christmas Eve. We have to go get one – Italian tradition."

"I'm pretty sure putting up the tree on Christmas Eve is German." Elena started to remove her coat.

"Work with me here." He reached out and rebuttoned her oversized buttons of her scarlet peacoat. "Would you rather go buy a Christmas tree or do Midnight Mass?"

Elena unwound her scarf from the doorknob of her room and wrapped it around her neck. "Christmas tree shopping it is."

* * *

Damon slowed the car to a crawl and gave the mostly-vacant lot a quick once over – not much to choose from, but they didn't have much choice. The Boy Scout Christmas tree lot closed on the 21st. The Methodist Youth lot was empty – its workers needed for the living nativity scene in front of the church that would start in less than an hour. So, Damon made the quick drive to Double Oak Christmas Trees and more. The private farm located halfway between Mystic Falls and Miller's Grove hosted a pumpkin patch in September and October, a hay maze in November, and rounded out the year with the Christmas tree farm before the aged couple went into hibernation for the rest of the winter.

A white bearded man in a flannel jacket was just opening the door to a truck that once might have been blue but now was mainly rusty orange. The owner of the lot paused mid-step as the sound of tires on the gravel road. "Cutting it mighty close, aren't you?" The old man could have been working as a department store Santa, except for the trucker hat advertising the town feed store.

Damon gave a shrug as he waited for Elena to get out of the car, a discouraged look on her face. He'd almost gotten her excited at the prospect of looking for a tree – that was thirty minutes ago. Now, after two closed lots, a discouraged wrinkle had formed between her eyebrows. "We're just glad you're still open."

Damon stood straighter and surveyed their choices. A handful of trees so barren they wouldn't even have been an option for a retelling of the Charlie Brown Christmas special rimmed the front of the lot.

"I think you should just take me back home." Elena wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

Damon stepped next to her and offered her his arm. "We haven't even really looked yet."

"Do y'all want some cider?" The owner of the lot peered into a brown slow-cooker. "I think there's still a little left. Doris always puts in extra cinnamon on cold nights."

"No. We're fine, thanks." Elena smiled at the man. Damon knew that smile. It was her fake smile. He'd seen her use it more than once when navigating the world of Mystic Falls' founding families. She shook her head and ducked beneath the tarp covering the trees for sale.

And she froze.

Elena's eyes widened like they had the day he'd presented her with her necklace the first time she'd encountered Elijah. She'd found her tree.

It had to be nine feet tall. Big and bushy. So full that they likely wouldn't have been able to wrap their arms around it, even if they'd linked hands.

"Your lady has expensive taste." The old man approached Damon and gave a knowing grin. "That one was supposed to be for the city of Mystic Falls. After the mayor died, though, no one from the city ever came to pick it up. I was saving it for them." He consulted his watch. "I don't really reckon they're coming for it now. It'd be a pity to turn it into mulch." He pursed his lips. "I guess I could let her go for $100."

Damon didn't even try to haggle over the price. He refused to do anything that would make Elena's current expression leave her face. "I'll take it." He reached into his wallet and pulled out two crisp bills. "Can you deliver it?"

The man smiled at the picture of Benjamin Franklin before pocketing the money. "Where to?"

"Salvatore Boardinghouse."

The man nodded and looked over at Elena, who was still circling the tree. "I can leave it on your doorstep." He turned toward the open field behind the tent. The snow had stopped falling, but a thick blanket of snow covered the entire countryside. The full moon shone down, leaving everything glowing with a silver light. "If you're not in a hurry," he nodded to the field, "why don't you take the little lady on a stroll?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "There's mistletoe in the trees at the edge of the clearing."

Damon glanced at Elena who was doing her best to pretend like she hadn't heard the man. Her acting skills hadn't improved any with her transition to a vampire. Her cheeks blazed red at the man's suggestion. It was almost as if….Damon shook off the suspicion that she might be interested in standing under the mistletoe.

He'd been with her at the motel in Denver.

But he'd also been on the phone with her when she chose Stefan.

Tonight, his only goal was to give her a semblance of Christmas – to prove that making the choice she'd never wanted to make was worth it. He had the pleasure of her company, nothing more. But still….

For the second time that night, Damon extended his hand to her. "Shall we?"

The snow crunched beneath their feet, practically echoing in the stillness of the night. For humans, the world would have been cast into grayscale, but Damon and Elena weren't human.

"It's a beautiful night." Elena gazed up at the cloudless sky dotted with stars it would have taken all night to count. She took a deep breath and stepped away from him…and straight onto _something. _

Transitioning into a vampire hadn't improved her balance. Her foot shot out from beneath her before Damon had a chance to react. She landed in the snow with a thud followed by a peal of laughter. "I didn't know it was this deep." She grinned widely as she studied the snow piled on each side of her face. As she struggled back to her feet, she left a perfect Elena-sized impression in the snow.

Damon laughed. He couldn't help himself.

"What?" For the first time in ages, she gave a genuine burst of laughter.

Damon shook his head. He didn't want to bring reality back to this moment.

"Damon?"

He could never resist her when she looked at him like that. "When you fell, it reminded me of when I was younger. Stefan and I would make snow angels in a field like this one."

"You made snow angels?" The disbelief was evident in her voice.

"And you didn't?"

Elena shook her head. "No. My mom always thought we'd get too cold. She didn't want us to get sick."

"No snow angels?" The thought was almost beyond Damon's comprehension. No wonder Elena was always so uptight. What kind of childhood had she had? "Well, there's just one way to fix that." Channeling his long-forgotten teenage years, he dropped to the ground and tugged her down next to him. He swept his arms and legs through the deep snow – and waited.

She only rolled her eyes once before she joined in. Her giggles filled the air, breaking the stillness of the night, but he didn't care. She carefully stood up and surveyed their handiwork. "Our angels are holding hands." She gave an embarrassed glance in Damon's direction. She stared at the section of the snow where the two angels' arms crossed paths.

Elena dusted the snow from her pants and her snow-dampened hair clung to her shoulders. No wonder her mother never let her play in the snow. She was a drippy mess.

Vampires didn't get sick. However, Elena had proven to be unlike other vampires in every other regard. She'd probably figure out how to do it. As if on cue, she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered from head to toe. "Come on." Damon pointed to the car. "Let's get you back where it's warm."

"I'm fine." Her words would have been more effective if her teeth weren't chattering loud enough to wake the squirrels in the trees at the end of the clearing.

"Sure you are." Damon didn't even try to mask his skepticism. He started walking, and thankfully, she trailed directly behind him.

* * *

True to his word, the owner of the Christmas tree farm had deposited the tree on the front porch before going home to begin the evening's celebration with his family. Damon stepped around the twine-wrapped tree and placed his key in the lock. Elena sniffled. He hoped she was taking in the fresh-pine smell. He didn't want to push his luck. "You're still dripping." Damon took hold of a lock of her hair as they stood on the doorstep.

"It'll dry pretty soon." Elena stepped through the open door and into the foyer. No longer in the half-light from the full moon, Damon was able to get a good look at her. Yes, her lips had a decidedly bluish tint. It was bad enough that her weird doppleganger blood still kept her from drinking from blood bags, if she came down with pneumonia on his watch, he'd never hear the end of it….or forgive himself for it.

"Why don't you go upstairs and take a hot bath?" Damon hefted the tree onto his shoulder and walked into the house. "I can take it from here."

"You're sure?" Elena hesitated, but her teeth were chattering so much it was difficult to understand her speech.

"Go. When you come back down, I'll have it all set up." She didn't even wait for him to finish talking before she disappeared up the stairs in a flash. She must have been colder than he'd thought. Decorations. Damon paused. They were…

The sound of water running distracted him. Elena was upstairs. Probably naked. They were the only two people in the house.

_Damn it, Salvatore, head in the game. _Damon couldn't allow himself to think like that. She'd made her choice. He knew where he stood. Even if she and Stefan were on a temporary hiatus, she wasn't his – and she never would be.

So what was he even doing here tonight?

He took a deep breath as he pulled a box of ancient Christmas decorations down from a shelf in the basement. Why was he here? Because it was Christmas Eve. And Elena was hurting.

And her pain tore at him more deeply than a stake through his heart.

* * *

Harry Connick Jr.'s rendition of _Sleigh Ride _was playing softly in the background when Elena finally descended the stairs. Damon had begun to wonder if she was coming back down at all. He'd had time to trim the tree, sweep up the evergreen needles that seemed to be breeding along the path from the front door, and make hot chocolate from scratch before he sensed her presence on the stairs. The blend of rosemary shampoo and ginger lotion was intoxicating – and uniquely Elena. "I thought you'd fallen asleep."

"I might have." She was blinking at the tree in disbelief, or appreciation, Damon couldn't quite tell which. "It's gorgeous." She didn't even notice the mug of hot chocolate he offered her. She was transfixed by the tree.

Damon gave a self-assured grin. He really had outdone himself. The tree was arrayed with tiny red balls and gold metallic ribbon. The white lights glinted off the ribbon and cast a warm glow in the living room. He'd turned off the rest of the lights. Between the tree and the fireplace, the Salvatore living room could have been a set for a Hallmark Hall of Fame Christmas special.

He walked to Elena's side and held out the mug again. The lure of the chocolate shaving-topped whipped cream finally drew her in. He'd never known Elena to resist chocolate.

"You even made hot chocolate?" She gazed at him appreciatively before her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. "Maybe I did fall asleep." She took the mug from his hand and added, "I haven't been sleeping very well." She spoke so softly, Damon wasn't entirely sure he was meant to hear it. Backing up until her calves brushed against the couch, she settled into her favorite spot, drawing her feet up under herself.

Nat King Cole's version of _The Christmas Song _played softly over the speakers as Elena took her first sip of her drink. Her lips curled into a grin as she stared at Damon. "This isn't just hot chocolate."

"No, it isn't." Damon grinned back. He'd given her almost double the amount of Bailey's in her drink as he'd given himself, but he knew she needed it. Elena Gilbert had an uncanny ability to work herself into a sleepless mess when she was worried about something. That's why he'd spent so many nights fully-clothed sharing Elena's bed last year. If worrying about Stefan kept her from sleeping, Damon assumed getting a letter stamped "Return to Sender" from her little brother would qualify as well.

Damon was surprised to discover that tonight they'd fallen seamlessly back into that same dynamic as they'd shared last year. They didn't even need words to communicate. Elena glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and gave a faint smile – the second genuine one she'd had tonight.

And they sat sipping their hot chocolate and staring at the tree while listening to the fire crackling in the hearth. Christmas music played softly in the background. And they didn't need words. She sat contentedly beside him, and that was more than enough.

Her head bobbed as she finished the last of her drink. Traces of a whipped cream moustache still clung to Elena's lips, and he desperately wanted to lick them off – but he settled for gently stroking them away with his thumb.

Elena yawned widely and settled against his shoulder. Her eyes drifted closed as Marilyn Monroe began to sing about what she wanted Santa to leave her under the Christmas tree. By the time the opening chords to _Christmastime is Here _played, her eyelids closed and didn't open again.

Damon scooped her up and carried her up the stairs. She didn't even flinch. Maybe he'd gone a little heavy on the whisky. He turned into a bedroom, but not the one she'd adopted for hers. No one should spend a night in that room if they didn't have to. Instead, he carried her to a bed much more familiar – at least to him. He held her in one arm as he turned back the freshly washed sheets of his bed and settled her in the exact center of the mattress.

As much as he'd dreamed of this moment…seeing her chocolate-brown hair fanned out across his pillow, he wouldn't be joining her tonight. He still had to be Santa Claus one more time.

* * *

Author's note: One more chapter to go. I hope to have it up tomorrow. Thanks for all the reviews so far. I'm pleased y'all are enjoying this rather melancholy tale.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Looks like we finally made it. This IS the last chapter in this story. Enjoy!

Quick reminder - this story carries a MATURE rating.

* * *

Damon was surprised at the number of cars still parked along Elena's street. So much for being asleep with sugar plums dancing in everyone's heads. The party at the house sitting diagonally across from the Gilbert house was still so packed that Damon was forced to park his car almost a block away.

Probably just as well. He still hadn't totally worked out what he planned to say. A familiar feminine laugh caught his attention as he crossed in front of the Forbes' lawn. He turned, half-expecting to see Caroline standing on her porch. But that's not what he saw. Instead, he stopped short – staring at the shadows cast on the blinds of Caroline's room. More laughter. A second voice joined hers. Deeper. Even more familiar to Damon. He'd recognize that hair anywhere. Caroline shushed her guest just as Stefan reached out and turned off the light.

Stefan….and Caroline?

Damon rubbed his eyes and kept on moving. Surely his eyes were playing tricks on him – or too much alcohol was doing a number on them. He crossed the street at the corner. The Gilbert house was silent and almost completely dark, save a still-lit Christmas tree in the front window.

He clomped up the stairs, his boots leaving globs of snow on the stairs he'd climbed so many times before. Without giving himself a chance to decide if this was really a good idea or not, he walked to the front door and gave three crisp knocks.

Nothing.

Either Jeremy was asleep or too drunk to hear him at the door. Hell, he'd seen Matt's car here earlier. Maybe Jeremy decided he just didn't want to be alone on Christmas Eve, and he'd gone home with his friend.

Damon knocked again.

"Who?" A bleary voice called out from inside. The porch light flicked on as Jeremy cracked open the door. A sleepy Bonnie stood just behind Jeremy. Catching a glimpse of Damon, she tugged the sides of her robe together, but not before Damon realized Bonnie was wearing nothing beneath it – tonight was definitely the night for the unexpected.

"Hands where I can see them, Gilbert." Damon might be here on a mission of mercy, but he wasn't a vampire with a death wish…at least not right now. Later, when Stefan and Elena had reconciled – again. Then, he might pay the youngest Gilbert a different kind of visit.

Jeremy stepped onto the porch, his hands out in front of him. He looked skeptical. "What are you doing here Damon?"

"You sent Elena's Christmas card back."

Jeremy's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I what?"

Just like he thought. Jeremy the Slayer was in control when he'd scrawled those words across the envelope. "Elena sent you a Christmas card. Someone, I'm assuming your _other _you marked it 'return to sender.'"

"But I didn't…."

"Someone did." Damon shook his head. This wasn't the time to play that game. "Elena deserves the chance to spend Christmas with her brother."

Jeremy shook his head. "I can't Damon. It's instinct. Every time I see her…"

"You want to kill her. I get it. I understand." Damon crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave into the desire to appear a bit threatening. "Do you remember the time Connor shot you?"

"How could I forget?"

"Refresh my memory." Damon stared at Jeremy without blinking.

Jeremy shrugged. "I was standing in the middle of the room. Elena was rushing toward me, but Connor shot me before she could get there. And then Stefan and Connor disappeared."

"So it was just you and Elena?"

Jeremy nodded. "Yes."

"And you were bleeding."

"I'd been shot."

"You were bleeding, and you were alone with your sister – a brand new vampire. A vampire who can only drink blood straight from the source, if I might add. Were you ever scared?"

Jeremy shook his head, his eyebrows knit together. "I knew Elena wouldn't hurt me."

"Even though you were covered with blood." Damon let that sentence hang in the air for a heartbeat. "Every fiber of a vampire's being calls out when human blood is near. If there's enough blood, even the most controlled vampire has difficulty resisting. We just can't. It's _instinct_." Damon paused and stared at Jeremy. "Think about it." He backed away from the door and turned to descend the stairs. "I'm serving brunch at ten."

* * *

Elena rolled onto her side and was surprised by the sensation of daylight on her face. Damon got her drunk last night. She tried to decide if she was annoyed or relieved that she'd finally gotten a decent night's sleep, and then she realized where she was. She sat up with a start. She was in Damon's bed, but she was fully clothed, and she didn't see any traces of sharing the bed with anyone else last night.

A part of her wished….. No, she couldn't go there. She'd pushed him away one too many times. She'd understood that when he packed his bag the night she'd arrived. She couldn't really blame him, even if it had taken becoming a vampire for her to realize who she really wanted. Too little. Too late.

She could hear voices downstairs.

"_I'll bet you four slices of bacon that she doesn't get up till noon_." Was that?

"_You've already eaten six slices. Are you really trying for the whole package?" _Damon was talking to someone that sounded like….

A deep laugh answered Damon's question. _"I'm just saying that Mom and Dad…"_

Jeremy.

Elena didn't hear what Mom and Dad used to do. She sprung out of the bed and flew down the stairs, not even giving a second thought to how she must look. She hit the kitchen at full-vampire speed, and three sets of eyes smiled up at her.

Jeremy placed a strip of bacon next to a mountain of Belgian waffles on his plate. Without saying a word, he walked to his sister and wrapped his arms around her.

Elena glanced up at Damon, who was manning the waffle iron. "Merry Christmas, Elena."

* * *

Bonnie tapped her watch and Jeremy stood and stretched. He'd just successfully won his third game of Monopoly, but Elena had bested him twice in Yahtzee. Bonnie was proven to be the charades champion.

Damon had been in the room for the entire afternoon, but he never participated. He hovered. Refilling drinks. Laughing at jokes. Keeping a careful eye on The Hunter's hands.

"You're sure you can't stay for dinner?" Elena looked up at Jeremy. The mouthwatering aroma from the fresh-baked lasagna sitting on the kitchen counter wafted into the living room.

Bonnie shook her head and frowned. "We promised my dad that we'd come by for Christmas dinner."

Elena nodded in understanding. In a town where parental figures were in short supply, it was important to spend time with the ones who remained.

"Elena?" Jeremy beckoned for her to follow him, drawing Damon's attention. "I just wanted to talk to her." He turned out his pockets and held out his hands for inspection. After Damon appeared satisfied, Jeremy turned and walked in the direction of the study.

Elena followed, curious to find out what her brother wanted to say away from the others.

Jeremy leaned against Damon's oversized desk and nodded in the direction of the far corner of the room.

Of course.

It wasn't Jeremy who wanted to talk. Alaric was here.

"Alaric?" Elena spoke the name softly, hesitantly. She was well aware there was still an Alaric-shaped hole in Damon's heart.

Jeremy smiled. "He has a message for you." Jeremy flinched and rolled his eyes. "He wanted me to tell you that it's okay for you to be happy too. You both want the same thing."

"What?"

Jeremy ducked his head and laughed. "You'll figure it out." He cringed. "And he wanted me to tell you that he won't be hanging around later tonight. Some things he just doesn't need to see."

"Everything okay in there?" Bonnie tapped at the door.

"We're fine." Jeremy nodded to himself. He waved to Elena as he opened the door to the study. "I'll see you later."

Elena waved back, happy, because she knew her brother was telling the truth.

* * *

Elena sat on the floor in front of the fire, warming her hands. Damon finished the dishes and came in to sit beside her. She looked sad. "What's wrong?"

Elena shook her head but didn't meet his eyes. "I didn't get you anything for Christmas."

Damon laughed. "That's what was bothering you through dinner?"

"You did everything. We bought a tree. You decorated it. You somehow convinced my brother that he could come over without killing me. And I didn't give you anything."

"Did you have a good Christmas?"

"Yes, but…" Elena's smile was as wide as he'd ever seen.

"That's my present." He pointed at her face. "Right there. I haven't seen you smile like that in a long, long time. I just want you to be happy."

A log crackled and rolled down the massive pile in the fire. Elena shifted to face him, laughing softly to herself. She took a breath, as if she was preparing for something difficult.

"What is it?"

"You sound like Ric." Elena looked down at the ground.

"That's why Jeremy wanted to talk with you in private? Ric wanted to tell you something?"

"_Mmm hmm." _Elena still seemed to find the floor very interesting.

Taking a risk, he reached out and placed a finger under he chin, tilting her face up to look back at his. "Something's wrong."

"No. But I need to say something. I know I've pushed you away so many times. It's probably too late, but it's something Alaric said." Her heart sped faster in her chest. The air in the room became charged and heavy. "That night, when I picked Stefan, it was because it was the right thing to do." She held up a hand before he could argue. "The right thing for everyone else. It's what everyone else wanted me to do. I've always done what everyone else wanted. I entered Miss Mystic Falls for my mom. I was a cheerleader because of Jenna. I dated Stefan because of Bonnie and Caroline." She paused, reaching out and cupping his cheek with her hand. "Even when I said it, I knew I didn't mean it, but I wasn't strong enough to say what I really wanted." Her eyes locked on his. "You."

She didn't wait for him to respond. Her lips crashed against his with an intensity that even surprised Damon. Hell, he was surprised that she was kissing him in the first place.

And was she ever kissing him.

This wasn't the tentative kiss he'd experienced on her front porch. Or the heated moment at the motel in Denver.

This was a kiss full of hunger, desire, and pent-up sexual frustration.

Damon knew the feeling.

He kissed her back with equal fervor. His fingers tangled in her long hair and she moaned softly at his touch. For a moment, he wondered if this was real or if he was caught in a seriously realistic dream, but as her fingers snaked up the hem of his shirt, he knew that no dream was this vivid.

Before he knew exactly what was happening, she sat straddling him, the firelight reflecting off the bare skin of her shoulders. His hands traveled up her stomach, and he palmed her breasts. Her pupils dilated until her eyes appeared almost completely black.

He flicked his thumb over one nipple, and her entire body shuddered. She squeezed her eyes shut at the intensity of the feeling.

And he realized something. She and Stefan hadn't exactly been seeing eye to eye before she transitioned and after, well, there was a reason they'd broken up so quickly. "Elena?" Her breathing was coming in quick pants as she looked down at him.

He flipped them over, taking control for the moment. "Have you? Since you turned?" He couldn't even fully phrase the question. Of course she had. He was fooling himself if he even considered the possibility that he might be the first to have her as a vampire.

The flush on her cheeks told him the answer. For an instant, the quieter Elena broke through the fiery lover he'd just been acquainted with. "No."

No wonder she was so responsive to his every touch. She had no idea what she was about to experience.

And she seemed rather impatient to experience it. She tugged his shoulders down, her lips ready to meet his. The light from the fire danced off her eyes, adding even more intensity to the moment.

He wanted to wait. He wanted to make it last. But as her hips arched up to meet his and her fingers threaded through his hair, he knew that simply wasn't a possibility. She shifted under him again, clearly wanting to take the lead. And he let her.

She rolled him onto his back, and she straddled him. In just the few moments he'd been in control, the evidence of her desire became even more apparent. He could see how much she was struggling to draw out the experience – but why wait? He shifted his hips, and his eager cock pressed against her wet core. She was beyond ready. And she needed no more encouragement.

She stood up onto her knees, meeting him as his member stood ready to meet her. He'd been with other women. He'd been with Katherine. But nothing prepared him for this. As her velvety soft skin enveloped him, he couldn't hold back a groan of satisfaction.

This was far better than he'd even imagined it, and he'd spent plenty of time alone in his room imagining it.

His cock twitched and she arched her back in pleasure. "You like that?"

"Mmmmm." Elena's eyes rolled up in her head. He wasn't sure if she was capable of words any longer.

He pulled her down closer to him, taking her nipple in his mouth, allowing his teeth to graze the sensitive skin. She didn't hold back any longer as she began to move against him at a frustratingly slow pace.

He flipped her over – once more, taking the lead. He rested his elbows on either side of her chest and entwined her fingers with his. From the sounds she was making below him, he could tell she wasn't going to last much longer. He stilled his movements and stared into her eyes. He wanted to burn this moment into both their memories.

When it became clear she couldn't wait any longer, and she began to wriggle beneath him, he resumed his agonizingly slow thrusts.

Once.

Twice.

Three times, and it was like the world exploded around Damon. If anyone lived within walking distance of the boardinghouse, they certainly would have heard Elena's scream.

But, as intense as the moment was, that wouldn't be what Damon would remember about this night. Spent, he rolled onto his side, and Elena delicately traced the outline of Damon's muscles with the tip of her index finger.

"Merry Christmas, Elena." Damon leaned over and kissed her collarbone. "I loved my present."

"That's not what this was about." She reached up and placed her palm against his cheek. "I love you, Damon."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and he stared into her eyes. Her eyes pooled with tearful emotion.

"You." She stroked her thumb along his jaw. "I'm in love with you."

And he could tell that she meant it. He whisked a giggling Elena up into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her up the stairs to his bed where they could have a proper celebration….and a not-so silent night.

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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews make an author's heart go pitter patter!


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